No strings
1232 Words
(Alina)
I stared at him. My heart didn’t skip. It didn’t flutter. It slammed into my ribs like it was trying to break free.
Vengeance. Power. And you.
Those three words shouldn’t have meant anything. They shouldn’t have gotten under my skin the way they did. But they did. Not because I believed him. Not because I suddenly trusted him.
Because they made something inside me stop running.
I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. My voice was stuck behind the rage that never really left me. The rage I buried under fake smiles and polite lies. The kind of rage that boiled over when you’ve been burned alive by the people who swore to love you.
Jason.
Chelsea.
Their names felt like poison.
He was supposed to be mine. She was supposed to be my friend. My best friend. I knew what they did. I knew what they planned.
I died because of it.
And now I was here. With a man who said the one thing I hadn’t dared admit to myself.
Vengeance.
It was the only thing keeping me breathing.
“Say something,” Damian said quietly.
I looked at him, eyes locked. I didn’t want to give him anything. Not a smile. Not a nod. Not even a word. But I could feel it building in my chest, like a scream I hadn’t let out yet.
My lips parted. I felt them move before I even realized what I was going to say.
“Yes,” I said.
Damian blinked, once. Like he hadn’t expected that answer to come so quickly.
I didn’t move. Didn’t flinch.
“You’re saying yes?” he asked, his voice lower now like he didn’t want to scare the moment away.
I nodded. “Yes. I’ll marry you.”
He didn’t smile. He didn’t gloat. He just looked at me, eyes dark and unreadable.
I pushed my chair back and stood up but did not leave. Not yet. My hands pressed to the table to keep myself from falling.
“But this isn’t love,” I said, my voice stronger than it had been in weeks. “This isn’t some fairy tale or romance. This is a deal. You get what you want. And I get what I need.”
“And what is it you need?” he asked, rising slowly to his feet.
I looked up at him, not bothering to hide the fire behind my eyes.
“Access. Protection. Power. Resources. I want the tools to destroy them. Jason. Chelsea. Everyone who stood by and watched me fall.”
He nodded once. “Then you’ll have them.”
“No strings,” I added. “I keep control over my life. I do things my way.”
“Deal,” he said.
There was a pause. We stood there staring at each other like we didn't want this moment to end.
He pulled out his phone. “Let’s put it in writing.”
“Now?” I raised an eyebrow.
“You said you wanted it. No strings, no surprises. I don’t break promises, Alina.”
I pulled my chair back in and sat. He did the same. He typed something out fast, then turned the screen to show me.
A simple agreement. Clean. No legal tricks or hidden clauses. Just words that laid everything out.
I scrolled through slowly. My fingers trembled, but not from fear. From the adrenaline rushing through me.
When I reached the bottom, I looked up at him.
“You sure about this?” I asked.
“Are you?”
I held his gaze. “I just buried the girl who let herself be walked on. The girl who let them tear her apart. I won’t be her anymore.”
“Then sign it,” he said.
So I did. I pressed my finger to the screen and let it record my name.
He signed right after.
And just like that, it was done.
Damian watched me. Not with hunger. Not with heat. But with interest. Like he was witnessing a rebirth.
He stood, offering his hand.
I didn’t take it. I didn’t need help standing.
But I walked beside him. Out of the café. The rain had stopped. The air was now cool and damp.
I didn’t say anything as we walked to his car. A black thing that probably cost more than my old apartment. He opened the door for me, and I slid in.
The silence inside wasn’t awkward. It was focused. Tense in all the right ways.
He started the engine but didn’t drive.
“Where to?” he asked.
I turned to him. “Somewhere quiet. Somewhere I can think.”
“I know just the place.”
The drive didn’t take long. A penthouse he owned. It felt empty and packed at the same time.
I stood at the glass wall and looked out at the lights.
Jason liked to play clean. The perfect man. A man with a future, a reputation, a career he built on lies and smiles.
Chelsea liked the attention. She needed it. Craved it. She was already filled with envy when I was still alive. She wore my skin behind my back, trying to be me.
Now she could have it.
I’d give it to her. I’d let her wear the crown, let her sit in the chair, let her smile in every photo.
And then I’d set fire to the whole damn room.
If Damian was serious—and I knew he was—this was my chance. Not just to get even.
To win.
I never played dirty before. I never stepped on anyone to get ahead. I was always the girl who forgave too much, smiled too quickly, and walked away instead of fighting back.
But not anymore.
They killed me.
They laughed while I bled.
Now they would learn what it meant to fear the dark.
Because I was it.
I pulled out my phone and stared at the contract still open on the screen. Damian will get it printed soon.
This wasn’t about feelings. I didn’t love Damian. I didn’t even like him most days. He was intense. He was unpredictable. He made things messy.
But he meant it.
He didn’t lie to me. He never said he was a hero. He never pretended to be something he wasn’t.
And that honesty? That brutal honesty?
I could work with that.
Because people like Damian—men who moved in silence and smiled while they slit throats—they understood the game. They played it without blinking.
And I needed someone like that in my corner.
I needed someone who didn’t flinch.
I turned to him.
“You said no strings,” I said.
He didn’t hesitate. “I did.”
“I want that in writing as well.”
“Done.”
“And I want control. Over myself. Over my life. You don’t get to make rules like I said.”
“Fine.”
“I want access. To everything you can give me.”
“You’ll have it.”
Silence.
Then I said it.
“Then we have a deal.”
He didn’t say anything right away. But I could hear his breathing, it was calm.
“Alina.”
“What?”
“You won’t regret this.”
I almost laughed.
Oh, Damian.
I was counting on it.
- Writer
